


A Love for Gardening

by Syven



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 17:42:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11295561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syven/pseuds/Syven
Summary: Originally written on 08/28/2009.  AU World. This little bit of smut simply wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it.





	A Love for Gardening

There was nothing routine about their lives, not with all the projects at work in the Fortress and the primitive way they all lived, fishing or hunting daily for meals, meticulously planting row after row of seeds in the hopes of a short, late bloom before the winter rolled in. Not that it would be brutal on the idyllic Mediterranean island, no. The mountain ranges afforded them some protection from ocean breezes and gave them enormous tracks of land to cultivate citrus trees and olive bushes.

Ginny woke to an empty bed, rolling onto her back, her hand skating up over her stomach as she sighed and looked up at the log roof overhead. The sun was peeking in from the window opening, casting bright streaks of light across the concrete and dirt floor, creeping up over the blanket and the stone wall behind her. 

The place they called home had been a small, stone chapel with five separated rooms, its walls intact but missing a roof and floor. Laying broken concrete bits and filling in the difference with dirt had solved the flooring problem. Terry and Viktor had worked with Seamus to put the roof up while Luna and Tracey had helped Ginny put down the floor. Everyone pitched in to help make things livable for them as they had pitched in to help others. 

She slipped out of their bed and padded barefoot to the room they'd set aside as the loo. Near the window opening sat one of the tubs that had been salvaged, a large bowl rested atop a pillar of stacked, flat stones and the steel pail on the floor next to it held the supply of water for the bowl where they washed up. One of the Hogwarts toilets sat in the corner even though they still hadn't worked out real plumbing – it was on the special projects list but securing shelters and food came first. In the meantime, they vanished what they needed to and refilled the tub and bucket magically.

Morning sabbatical, such as it was, was cool. Ginny would take a long bath later, heating the water over the fire in the common room but now she pulled a comb through her hair and washed up in the bowl. Slipping on only the sundress that Tracey had made for her, she left her boots off and caught up the basket with a small spade and a ration container full of seeds. 

Ginny had already sectioned off a large area to the back of the chapel for a garden, protected as it would be by the stone half-wall that jutted out from the building on the side that faced the ocean. She had cleared the land in a rectangle, leaving the trees and low bushes along the outer edge to define where the wild ended and the garden began. A soft breeze ruffled the edge of her sundress but Ginny was looking to the south, where the Fortress lay on the long stretch of land jutting out into the water. Seamus was undoubtedly with Kingsley, working on his training.

She licked her lips, thinking of him, of the warm press of his lips on her neck in the middle of the night, the hard length of him pushing into her core as she woke slowly, arching back against him as he slowly fucked her, his low groans and thick Gaelic accompanying her soft gasps and needy mews, his talented fingers slipping between her folds as his thrusts grew harder and faster. Ginny clawed sleepily at the covers as she came hard, rutting her bottom back, riding his cock, his hands clutching her hips roughly as his thrusts stuttered and deepened until he spilled into her core with a thick curse, groaning. They'd fallen back asleep, legs twined, softly murmured words of affection muffled against warm skin and soft hair.

The basket bumped against her bare thigh and Ginny gave the edge of her dress a tug. She wasn't wearing anything underneath it and although the chapel was on the far edge of the settlement, she didn't trust that one of the others wouldn't come looking for her, especially Luna if they saw Seamus with Kingsley. It wasn't uncommon for one of them to come out to see if she 'needed help' with the chapel. In truth, Ginny knew they were all hoping for the day when she became pregnant even if the thought of it did frighten her a little. They all looked at the coming babies as hope and she did as well but she was nervous that it would put Seamus off. 

Finding the spot at the far end of the garden where she'd left off the previous morning, Ginny knelt in the dirt and began digging another row of the rich soil in preparation for more seeds. She set each of the plant cuttings in first, keeping the hardier herbs on the outer edges and putting the weaker ones inside for more protection. Her thoughts were on the rough planks on the 'kitchen' floor, the other project she planned to work on today. After two days of work, she'd managed to get them mostly flat and today she would work on smoothing them down to use as counter tops.

She was lost in thought, hands digging in the dirt automatically, setting seed after seed in the soil and covering it with the loose ground. It was very early in the day and Ginny planned to visit with Hestia to ask about finding chickens. Balancing their diets was getting to be a serious need and although Ginny certainly enjoyed Seamus' tightly muscled body, she didn't want him to lose any more weight. Not with the winter coming. The island would stay moderate but it would still drop in temperature. Maybe a talk with Zach was in order as well. If she could get a couple of warm pelts, Tracey could show her how to stick them together to make a thick blanket for the bed.

The edge of her sundress rose and Ginny gasped at the warm press of a calloused hand on her inner thigh, fingers caressing up. "No knickers? Mo bricín be a naughty girl," Seamus purred from behind her, his fingers stroking between her folds and thrusting into her core, sending the spade tumbling to the dirt. She felt him shifting, his fingers slowing and the clank of his belt the only warning before he pulled his fingers out of her. "Were ye wait'n' fer me, me naughty lass?"

Ginny whimpered and nodded, breathless, cheeks flushing, fingers digging into the dirt. He was teasing her. Wanting her to beg for him, for his cock. His hands gripped her hips, pushing the sundress up around her waist, pulling her back enough to make her drop down onto her elbows. She felt the thick head of his cock rubbing slowly across her folds and then her clit, sending jolts of pleasure racing through her body. Ginny pushed back but he held her hips firmly. 

"Should I be punish'n' ye? Tak'n' ye here?" he purred, one hand smoothing over the curve of her bottom. She was a gorgeous sight, on her knees, her rosy lips parted enticingly but her mouth wasn't what he wanted. Like an exotic cat, she was, stretched out in languid repose but he could see the rise and fall of her breasts in short, anxious breaths. So obedient and ready to purr under his touch but he'd seen her arguing fiercely with Krum and exchanging tart words with Smith. A fierce wildcat, she be, and only a kitten in unexpected moments like this. The first time they'd made love, she'd been hesitant but her body sang for his and she was just as likely to tackle him when he came home as he was to sneak up on her. His voice had a rough, husky edge as he demanded. "Put ye head down, bricín, 'n tell me what ye be want'n'."

"You. Please," she groaned, licking her lips as she lowered her head to the comfort of her arms. Her sundress slid up, exposing her freckled breasts and back, a soft slope up to her arse where he held it up. It felt incredibly lewd and submissive and Ginny shivered, knowing anyone could come walking around the chapel. The thought of that made her cheeks flush and sent a pool of wet heat to her core but he still didn't move further, the head of his cock slowly rocking between her folds. She lowered her voice, husky now. "Please, Seamus. I… I need you. Bloody hell, please."

He chuckled, tracing his fingers along her spine, reaching around to cup her breast with one hand as the other tightened on her hips. Ginny moaned, wondering what he was going to do next. This was a new game. She felt exposed but safe, possessed but treasured. His hand released her breast and she held her breath, exhaling a moment later as his thick cock began pressing into her core, pushing a gasp from her lips as he filled her tight, wet channel. 

Seamus loved how wet she was for him, the slick aiding him as he sank to the hilt inside her, rocking back after a second to slam home again roughly. This wasn't making love though he surely loved her fiercely. He was taking her hard and fast, his cock pistoning in the velvet glove of her body with bruising thrusts that would have sent her sprawling onto her stomach if he didn't have her hips under the steel grip of his hands, pulling her back as he thrust forward, rutting against her bottom.

Ginny whimpered and tried to reach under herself but he stopped, his cock wedged firmly inside her to catch her hands and he growled. "Keep yer hands in front o' you. Where'I can see 'em." The flat of his hand slapped against the curve of her bottom with stinging force, leaving a red handprint and her skin tingling painfully. She made a breathy sound and wiggled her arse back, taking him deeper as her hands stretched out over her head. "Feck. Dinna move." 

He spanked her again, harder and she mewed, trying to hide her face but he caught her hair, giving it a firm but gentle tug. "Oh, me naughty bricín. Yer makin' me a happy lad," Seamus growled, shifting to angle his cock downward inside her, thrusting hard and setting a rough rhythm that would leave bruises on her hips and bottom, taking her with feral grunts as her core began to tighten around his cock, squeezing him painfully tight as her first orgasm made her body clutch him in tight waves. "Tell me who ye belong ta."

"You," she mewed softly, her fingers digging into the soil under his relentless assault, riding her through her orgasm without pause. Her body was on fire, her core slick with her release, making his thrusts feel like he was again hitting the sweet spot inside her over and over and she slumped even further down to the ground. "Just yours, cliste."

Seamus was in delicious agony, needing to come, to fill her with his seed but he held back a moment, reaching under her to rub his calloused fingers over her nub and a moment later, Ginny gasped out his name in a sob as another thunderous orgasm made her see stars. "'n only mine, mo precious bricín," he groaned through gritted teeth as he stopped fighting his needs, hips snapping to the plush of her bottom in jerking snaps as his cock swelled inside her, rutting as deep as he could, pushing his seed home. 

He managed to keep himself from pushing her to the ground but just barely and, after a moment to catch his breath, he pulled out of her and flopped onto his back in the dirt, turning his head to see her slip to the ground in a boneless way. After a moment, she stirred and shakily got to her hands and knees, crawling over to slump across his chest, panting breathlessly as his hand came up to stroke her hair. "Ye be thank'n' Tracey fer da dress, mo sárálainn grá, 'n' I dinnae t'nk ye be need'n' yer knickers anymore."

Ginny laughed softly but nodded in agreement, a blissfully smug grin curling on her lips. The others might be wondering why she wasn't pregnant yet but it certainly wasn't from a lack of practicing on both their parts. Every inch of her body tingled and felt boneless and she'd long since forgotten that they were out in their garden. "I think I'm going to really like gardening," she said with a chuckle.

cliste = clever  
bricín = freckle  
mo sárálainn grá = My gorgeous love.


End file.
